


King Under the Mountain

by Yer_a_Butte



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I wrote this ages ago for a creative writing assignment, Kili managed to survive the battle, My First AO3 Post, Please be nice, kind of, pretty sure he cries at one point, very little fluff but its there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9171241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yer_a_Butte/pseuds/Yer_a_Butte
Summary: “You promised.” At her words, Kili’s fine, stoic demeanor shattered and he began to weep. Tauriel pulled him into a hug, tucking the stone safely into her sleeve so she would not lose it amongst their limbs or the furs.“Why does it hurt so much?” Kili asked, voice breaking with every word.“Because you love them, and now they are gone.” Kili cried into her shoulder and she didn’t mind as she felt his tears dampened the shoulder of her tunic. Tauriel comforted him in the best way that she knew how, yet he continued to weep with his face buried in the crook of her neck.~~~~~Or the one where Kili survives the Battle of Fives armies but has to learn to live without his brother and uncle and to accept the throne.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over the course of a few weeks for my creative writing class right after I watched all three of The Hobbit movies. I'm actually really happy with how it all turned out, but if there's something wrong, please feel free to message me about it. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Consciousness slowly returned to Kili with an ache throbbing at the back of his skull. It took him a moment to open his eyes and another to blink away his bleariness and fully assess the room around him. He laid atop a cot, padded with furs in a dark room save for the light of a torch on the stone wall next to a wooden door and another lantern atop a table next to him. From what he could see, the room was empty, aside from the cot and the table. When he tried to sit up, a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder; at his failed attempt, Kili merely gritted his teeth and fell back to the cot.

Whilst gazing up at the cobblestone ceiling, he tried remembering what had happened to him. He was obviously in an infirmary or healing wing of some sort, albeit a dreary one at that. There was a battle, yes, he remembered that. Thorin was reluctant to comply with the King Elf’s and the Human’s negotiations, ultimately prompting bad relations between the dwarves and their neighbors. It wasn’t until shortly after the Orcs army arrived that Thorin allowed the company to take leave of Erebor’s entrance and aid in battle, fighting side by side with their distant cousins from the north. But from there, Kili’s memories shortened. He remembered the fighting, the Orcs surrounding them; every turn there was another, poised and ready to strike if one weren’t careful. If not for the Men of Laketown with their axes and the elves in their golden armor, all of the dwarves surely would have lost the fight. 

Although the company helped on the front lines, Thorin had other plans. Thorin had called upon his nephews to assist him up on Raven’s Peak where the leader of the Orc forces, the Pale Orc, took watch. Obediently, Kili followed Thorin along with his brother, Fili, and Dwalin on the backs of goats up the steep cliff side. A thick cloud obscured their sight once they reached the top. Thorin instructed Fili and Kili to scout the passageways atop the peak but Fili got separated from Kili and there was a loud noise, a blowing of a horn of some sort, and there was a cry and… that’s where his memories stopped and got fuzzier. Flashes of Orc soldier after soldier flash across his field of vision, one orc in particular giving him a subsequent amount of trouble; a flicker of red hair appeared here and there at the corners of his sight: Tauriel. He saw her, her desperation apparent on her face before the memories stopped and everything went dark. 

Tauriel was amongst the fighting as well. Of course, where else would she have been? She could tell him what happened, for he did not remember seeing Fili and Thorin before he blacked out. And surely he blacked out; why else would he have woken up on a healer’s cot with hardly any memory of it and the day before? He must go find her, find out everything that happened. Since he woke up here, in a room of dwarven crafted walls, they must have won the battle! The orcs wouldn't have let any dwarf into the mountain. The dwarves must have claimed it! Kili decided he must go find his brother, if not to do anything more than to just celebrate their victory! 

Kili tried sitting up again, grinding his teeth as he ignored the pains of his wounded muscles begging him to remain still. Once he was sitting fully upright, he inspected his wounds. He could tell the wound ran deep and unevenly from the way it throbbed. The bandages covered his bare chest, around his back, and over his shoulder completely covering any trace of the wound. If he were without a mind, he would have unwrapped the bandages and sought out the real damage of the wound for himself. But even without doing so, Kili could still hear Dori's, the Company’s medic, reprimands. 

Kili moved to get up, an act that would surely rile Dori up for sure. A few harsh words Kili could handle, but right now he needed to find Tauriel, Fili, and Thorin, just to make sure they were all safe. They couldn't be too far, Kili thought. If he were in the medical ward, Thorin and Fili should be in rooms not too far from his, healing wounds of their own. Why he and Fili weren't put together in the same room, Kili didn't know and didn't think too hard about. He already had a task on his mind. He focused on standing to his feet without passing out and falling flat on his face.

Sitting up had not been easy, Kili noted, but comparing it to actually standing up, it was entirely different. Kili had tried swinging his feet over the side of the bed, but that only made his head spin. Putting his head down in his hand had done nothing to help, and he was nearly forced to lie back down just to stop the room from rotating. He slowly slid off the bed and onto his feet in one fluid motion, taking a long moment to gather himself, planting all of his weight into the soles of his uncovered feet. The stone floor was smooth and cold under his calloused feet, and it did nothing to help him gain balance. Once oriented, he wasted no time taking his first step to the door. His legs were shaky underneath him, more so than he would have imagined, making him wonder just how long he had been asleep for. 

Kili braced himself against the door once he managed to reach it. The back of his head pounded relentlessly with every step he had taken and clouded his vision for the briefest of moments. He closed his eyes and concentrated on shoving the fog away from him, so that he may open the door, but somehow the door opened itself. Given his state, Kili didn’t have the reflexes to catch or brace himself as Tauriel came barreling through the door. The force with which she used to open the door sent Kili flying back into the room, landing square on his butt.

“Kili!” She exclaimed, rushing to his side. “You should be resting! What are you doing on the floor?” She effortlessly hauled him up from the floor and back to the bed. Kili took a seat on the edge, but ignored her gentle push to lie down.

“I was about to go looking for you.” He smiled up at her, taking her hand into his. But his show for affection went unnoticed, as her face remained cold as the stone floor. “What is the matter?” only at the sound his words did her frigid demeanor break and she looked up at him with wide eyes as if she had been caught thinking of something she shouldn't have.

“Nothing.” She breathed, pulling her hand away. “I only came to check that you were okay.”

“I am okay, I'm more than okay,” He nodded reassuringly. “This should be a time for celebration! We've won the war, haven't we? Why are you so sad?” Tauriel's expression did not waver the slightest as Kili spoke to her. 

“Your other dwarves have been waiting for you to awaken for some time now.” She spoke with a voice as closed off as her face. “I shall go fetch them.” Before she could leave, Kili grabbed ahold of her wrist and held her in front of him.

“No, stay with me a moment. I have been asleep for so long, I have not seen you for some time.” Giving him a soft smile, Tauriel stood in front of the injured dwarf and gazed down upon with a great deal of fondness in her eyes. Kili returned the same sentiment. “You cut your hair.” Kili pointed out, stretching out his hand to touch the ends of her hair that fell no further than the tops of her shoulders. 

“Yes, I found it much easier to manage it this way.” 

“S’not exactly the same length as an elven soldier, I must say.” Kili said with a breathy laugh, retracting his hand. 

“No need to worry about that.” Tauriel said, stepping away from him. She moved to the side table to tinker with the oil of the lamp. “I am banished from my land.” 

“Banished? What for?”

“For helping you, and your people.” Baffled, Kili shook his head. 

“That isn’t fair! We were all attacked by the Orcs! We all fought together.” Kili protested, nearly rising from the bed. Tauriel kept her back to him.

“That’s not what Lord Thranduil believes.”

“Tauriel…” Kili reached out for her again, but she pulled away before he could get ahold of her. She breezed out of the room, ignoring Kili's pleas for her to stay there with him. He was left alone again on the padded cot; however, it did nothing to ease his mind. But Kili did not have to wait long until other guests arrived. The dwarves slammed open the door and the company all piled into the room. First, the three Ri brothers entered, tripping over themselves to get to Kili faster; followed by Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bombur, and Bofur. Dwalin and Balin were the last two, chuckling at the antics of the younger dwarves and taking their time to walk through the door.

“Oh yes, it's good to see you, too! Yes I’m alright!” Kili answered to the many questions the concerned dwarves bombarded him with. All the dwarves crowded around him, nearly suffocating him were it not for the familiarity the dwarves brought with them. Only, there was more than one face that Kili couldn't find amongst the crowd, ones that held the most familiarity to him. “Where is Fili? And Thorin? They should be here, and we should be celebrating! We've won the war haven't we?”

The group of dwarves stopped their poking and prodding of the injured dwarf. All eyes stared blankly at him. Ori, the youngest one of them, started tearing up and pushed his way out of the room, Nori trailing not too far behind him.

“What's the matter? We won, didn't we?” But no one answered him. The silence took its toll and Kili nearly blows up in the face of his comrades, until a thought dawns on him. 

“Dwalin, where is Fili?” The tallest dwarf, looming in the back, merely dropped his gaze and shook his head. Angry with no one having answered a single question since he woke up, he bellowed “Where is Fili?” the acoustics seem to ring in the small quarters and set the other dwarves on edge. From the back, Balin announces

“Alright everyone, leave for a moment while I catch him up.” The dwarves all took their leave, filing out one by one in a much more ordered fashion compared to when they first entered.

“What’s going on, Balin?” Kili asked again, exasperated. The old dwarf pulled up a stool, one that Kili hadn't seen that sat abandoned at the foot of the cot, and took a seat, sighing as he did so.

“You’re right that we won the war, but not without a few losses of our own.” The elder dwarf conveyed, folding his hands together in his lap.

“You cannot be serious.” Kili breathed.

“They were killed during the fighting. There was nothing we could've done to stop what happened.” Kili didn't argue, didn't fight back and accuse Balin of lying to him, of pulling some sick joke with Fili behind his back. Sure the brothers would have played pranks on each other every now and again, but Balin wasn't exactly the pranking type, neither was Thorin. This joke would've been too sick for Fili’s humor anyway, Kili thought bitterly. Besides, any dwarf knew that sacrificing oneself into battle meant a great deal of honor, and that anything could happen in the heat of battle. 

“It cannot be…” he breathed, slouching in on himself. Even the best soldiers got wounded during battle, but this, to Fili and Thorin? Kili couldn't wrap his mind around it.

“You were nearly killed too. If it weren't for your elven friend, you wouldn't be sitting here.” Balin explain, his voice even. Kili nodded his head, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“When is the funeral?” He asked, choking back the sob that threatened to escape his throat. Balin gave the young dwarf a soft, sympathetic look.

“I'm sorry, laddie. You were out for so long, we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“You buried them without me?” Kili gasped, his mouth going dry. His chest felt like it was caving in, giving his shoulder an all new reason to twinge with pain. Earlier the room felt as though it were spinning; now Kili felt like his whole world was shaking. Kili wanted to scream, he wanted to cry out to Mahal, and to curse the gods for taking his brother and uncle from him. 

“Dori said you lost so much blood and even Gandalf couldn't lend much assistance. You did not show any signs of waking up, and we have to bury our dead, laddie. The dead don't fare well above ground, after all.” Kili flared his nostrils. If Balin didn't stop talking or leave the room, Kili swore he would strangle the older dwarf. He couldn't keep his mind straight. He had spoken to Thorin not that long ago; he remembered confronting his uncle about his unusual behavior. Kili confronted him about his hesitations. Kili remembered fighting alongside him and his brother during the war. Why had he let them leave his sight? He should have stayed with Fili in the passages of the Raven Peak. If he were with Fili, then maybe things would have turned out differently. 

“You've been out for a fortnight.” Balin's voice broke through Kili’s brooding. Kili gaped at the dwarf opposite him.

“Two weeks?” He whispered. Balin nodded. 

“The orc got a deep cut in your shoulder. Not too far from the heart.” Balin finally fell silent. Maybe the older dwarf caught on to Kili’s absent minded demeanor, or actually took a look at Kili’s sullen face. Either way, Balin heaved himself up from the stool, and placed a hand on Kili’s shoulder. “Don't blame yourself. Thorin and Fili knew what they were risking the moment we set out to reclaim this mountain. It's just bad luck they both got caught by the-”

“Bad luck?” Kili said, looking up at the dwarf in front of him. “Bad luck?” His voice roared, similar to that of his Uncle's. “It was not 'bad luck’ that got them killed. It was Thorin's idea for us to split up on the peak, and mine for agreeing to it that got them killed. Thorin told us to stay together, but Fili suggested we split up. If I hadn't listened, if I had been there I could have…”

“There was nothing you could have done-”

“I could have saved them! I could have been there for them! Who is to take the throne now that the King and the heir are dead?” Kili cried, his outburst startling the older dwarf into withdrawing his hand and retreating a few steps back. 

At the same time Kili ended his outburst, Tauriel appeared around the door once again. This time she carried with her a tray of food. Awkwardly, she stood in the doorway, observing the two dwarves. 

“I thought you'd be hungry.” she said, holding a tray. The uneasiness of the room made Kili’s stomach turn sour. He didn't feel like eating, especially not at a time like this.

“Yes, you should eat. Get some of your strength back, laddie. I'll be round to check on you later.” And with that, Balin ushered Tauriel further into the room and left with a soft click of the door closing behind him. Tauriel brought the tray to the small side table. She remained silent as she looked over the food and prepared it for Kili. Watching her from the corner of his eye, fury grew from the pit of his stomach that she would not speak to him let alone look at him since she stepped into the room. 

“You could not have told me?” he spat, not raising his head. His words had not affected her, from what Kili could see, only angering him further.

“I didn't want to upset you.”

“Did you think I would not still be upset hearing the same news from someone else?” He cried. “My brother and uncle are gone now, Tauriel.” Tauriel did not respond, and the two sat in silence for some time. Kili did not want to share what he was thinking with the elf. How could she understand what he was feeling? He thought. He could barely comprehend his own feelings at the moment. He only just woke up mere minutes ago and already he was bombarded with life altering news. 

“I have lost my family, too.” She said in an even tone, her back still facing Kili. He could see the obvious tension in her shoulders, and suddenly he longed to know how she spent her time in Erebor in his absence. “I disobeyed a direct order to save your life.”

“Tauriel…” She did not turn to face him; her hands had stopped moving altogether. He watched her, in those few quiet moments, wishing that she would talk to him, say something, anything. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, but his shoulder prevented him from doing so. This silence between them spoke volumes of their infidelities, their grief and insecurities lingered unspoken in the air, but neither dared speak another word. 

“Eat.” She commanded, all of a sudden spinning around to Kili, holding a bowl of soup under his nose. Kili wanted to look up at Tauriel, but the mere smell of the soup turned his stomach inside out and he turned his face away. “At least take a bite.” She insisted, shoving the bowl and spoon into his limp hands. Kili pushed the bowl away.

“No.”

“There are herbs in it that will help with your pain.” She said, eyeing his bandaged shoulder. Out of the itch of being under her gaze, Kili rolled his shoulder to show he was fine; however, he did not anticipate the toe-curling pain that shot across his collarbone, up the side of his, and into his jaw. Tauriel eyed him knowingly at his pinched expression.

“We do not feast when we mourn our dead.”

“This is no feast, by any means. Just have a bite.” 

“No.”

“Kili.”

“Tauriel.” He glared up at her through his bangs, expecting an eye roll, a sigh, or some sign to show she was exasperated with him. But none came; instead her soft eyes suggested something different, a kind of pitiful understanding of sorts. The look only irritated Kili further. “Leave me.” He said, tearing his eyes away from her, all sympathy for her leaving as she went. And as she left, a bad taste overcame Kili’s mouth and he couldn't blame her or her soup for it.

When Tauriel left the room, she found the older dwarf in the hall, leaning against the wall opposite the door, waiting for her. She shut the door, and followed the dwarf as he led her away from the room.

“He didn't eat, did he?” Tauriel shook her head. In the dim light of the hall, Tauriel saw the bags beneath his eyes and the toll the war and the death of the King Dwarf had taken on him. The dwarf sighed. “As I feared; He's never lost someone close before. He lost his father when he was too young to understand, he doesn't know how to mourn. If he could train, that would make the pain easier for him to handle. If he could just take his frustrations out with a little target practice, then maybe we might just get through to him.”

“Why can’t he?”

“A tendon was cut in his shoulder that aids in archery. Without it, he can’t pull back the string of the bow. It needs to heal, but it won't if he refuses to eat.”

All anger aside, Kili did eat after Tauriel left. He grabbed the bowl and downed the soup in one gulp. He grit back his stomach's immediate instinct to purge and decided to lay back down in hopes his stomach would settle. He closed his eyes and decided he try to settle his mind if his stomach would not. His very soul felt as though it were stripped from his body from the magnitude of the news. An empty cavity in his chest lay bare where his heart should have been. Kili felt numb. If not for the dull pain in the depth of his shoulder, Kili would have thought this all a dream; his uncle and his brother dead? What family did he have left now besides his mother and Thorin's cousins from the north?  
Kili sat up with a start. What was he to tell his mother? That he came out of the war nearly unscathed while her other son and brother lie buried beneath the mountain they were to have called home after they had taken it? How was he supposed to explain to her that he couldn't have saved them? It was his fault that they didn't survive the war. If they hadn't split, if he hadn't left Fili alone in the tunnels, then maybe... Kili’s heart dropped at the thought of telling her and seeing her reaction. She wouldn't have attended their funeral either. So maybe he wasn't the only one, Kili thought miserably, lying back down. 

His mind slowly sifted through his thoughts, though his mind grew sluggish with each passing second. He continued to think of his brother and of Thorin buried in the shallow holes of the mountain's catacombs deep underground, their lifeless bodies rotting away with the rest of them. He thought of his mother, visiting their burial slots and paying her respects. She'd cry, but only in the privacy of her room, resolving to put on a brave face in front of the company. She'd arrive in the spring, the warmth melting away the cold shrills of winter and so with it the pain, Kili hoped. In his hazy state he decided he’d send her a letter by eagle in the morning, and he couldn't help by wonder, in his lulling slumber, who would take the throne?

Kili awoke with as much success as the day before, or at least what he believed was the day before. The last time he remembered clearly being conscious, he decided. He heaved himself up on his elbows and took a look around. The throbbing in his head from the day before subsided, but not much more could be said for his shoulder. A spark of pain shot into his chest, prompting him to fall back on the cot with gritted teeth. Kili laid very still waiting for the pain to subside before he tried again. At least this pain was better than the alternative, he thought bitterly. Maybe he deserved to live in this pain and bear guilt of not saving Fili and Thorin. The cynical thought brought with it a flash of searing pain to his temple, no doubt a minor after effect of the soup.

A soft knock at the door rattled his head further.

“Come in.” Kili called, struggling to find the words through the fog overtaking his senses. Dori appeared behind the door, a jug and plate of food in hand. Kili glanced to him through squinted eyes but perked up immediately when he saw what Dori carried. “Brilliant. A mug of ale would do me good about now.” Kili smiled the best he could, reaching out to Dori. Complying with his patient's request, Dori handed him the jug with a meager look. Craning his neck, Kili took his first sip. Instantly recognizing the taste of the dull flavored liquid, he sputtered and prompted to spit the juice to the floor but not without swallowing half a mouthful first.

“Do you wish to poison me? This tastes like Bombur’s foot sweat!” Kili exclaimed, wiping his mouth as he handed the jug back to Dori. 

“If I wanted to do that, I would have done it while you were asleep.” Dori chuckled, setting a plate of food onto the table. From the smell, Kili knew it was Bofur’s porridge, a staple throughout the company’s journey to the mountain. His mouth watered. Kili knew Dori would know better than to mess with Bofur’s recipe and put any sort of medicine in it. Dori must have noticed Kili’s hungry stare towards the bowl just out of his reach because Dori took the jug from Kili’s hand and helped Kili sit up. With one hand pressed to Kili’s back and another around his good shoulder, Dori eased the injured dwarf upright. He then arranged the pillows so Kili could lean against them comfortably. 

“How’re ya feelin’, laddie?” Dori asked in a more serious tone, handing Kili the bowl of porridge before pulling back to sit on the stool that now sat next to the bed. After a few bites, Kili could already feel the fog slipping from his mind. His thoughts came cleaner and clearer than before.

“Fine.” He grunted around a mouthful of food. Dori saw through the lie but just shook his head. Standing, Dori shoves the jug into Kili’s hands again. 

“Drink it. I don't care if you think it tastes like Bombur’s foot sweat, it'll make ya feel better.” Dori snapped. Kili took the mug begrudgingly and chugged the whole thing. Grimacing as the flavor coated his mouth, Kili passed the empty mug and bowl back. Slowly, Dori then went to remove the bandages enveloping a near half of Kili’s chest. They peeled off easily with Dori’s skilled hands, not snagging on any hairs or scabs. 

“How does it look?” Kili had turned his head away, wanting to hear Dori’s opinion before having a look for himself. The medical dwarf hummed and brushed his fingers along the edges of the wound, sending a shiver down Kili’s back. 

“Could be worse,” The dwarf mused. I could be dead, Kili thought bitterly. He shoved the thought away and took a glance at his shoulder the best he could without tugging on his skin too much as he did so. Kili was right in that the gash ran deep and crooked, shallowing out down near the center of his chest. The wound burned a deep maroon, still bloody toward the middle where it ran deepest; the outermost and shallowest edges only at the beginning stages of scabbing over. Bruises of various sizes and colors littered his abdomen in an array of patterns. If Kili isn't too careful and stresses out the appendage too much, he could very well open the wound back up and start a bleeding frenzy. The wound wasn't infected from what Kili could tell, but its depth definitely meant a wicked scar when the healing process finished. 

“Not too bad, I'd say.” Dori said, giving the wound another once over. “Not healed enough to leave without a bandage, but suppose we better give it some air.” Kili nodded.  
The two dwarves sat together comfortably. Dori handed Kili the bowl of porridge and Kili ate with tentative bites. His stomach wasn't necessarily doing backflips as much as it had the time before, but it wasn't quite settled enough for a full bowl of porridge either. Dori spoke of the mountain’s progress and the arrival of so many dwarves already hearing about the great triumph. The city was fairing nicely, as well. Apparently the elves decided to take a temporary residence on the outskirts of the city and helped rebuild, albeit as minimal as possible. 

“Who is leading the dwarves?” Kili asked after another bit of porridge took away the nasty taste of Dori’s herbal remedy. 

“Dáin Ironfoot, Thorin’s cousin from the north, has taken temporary command.” Dori informed him. “Quite the demanding chap, I'd say. He's been working the dwarves day and night to help clear the streets of Dale with the townsfolk and cleaning the mountain to accommodate the incoming dwarves. Winter has about reached its climax, and he agreed to allow the people of Dale to stay in the mountain through the harshest bits of winter if they were to share their rations they received from the elves. He doesn't want any help from the elves, however, even though Bolin volunteered to speak with King Thranduil. Dáin doesn't want to hear anything about it. He feels we’re better off without them. Although I’m pretty sure Balin went to meet with the Elf King of treaty matters anyway, since Master Dáin won't reign here forever, much less the entire winter. Balin has faith that you'll take to the throne once you're rested and healed. The company and I agree, you should take some time-”

“Me?” Kili asked with a mouth full of food. He had continued eating whilst Dori droned on, but with the mention of himself taking throne, he couldn't help but be confused. “What am I to do with the throne?”

“You are to take it, of course! You are a son of Durin, a part of the royal family line. You were meant to take the throne at some point.”

“No, Fili was supposed to take the throne.” Kili stated, lowering his bowl to glare at the dwarf opposite him. An irrational anger flared in his chest. Thorin and Fili have been dead for less than a month and Kili has only just regained his consciousness for the second time in the past two days, with the aid of Dori’s medically tonic tea on the second wakening; yet the dwarves were already making plans for Kili when he hasn't had the chance to mourn for those that he lost! 

“Well that was the plan before…” Dori trailed off, glancing away from the brooding prince. 

“So you expect me to forget about my brother's destiny and take it for myself?” Kili scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Not like that no, but the company-”

“I don't care what the company says; it's not what Thorin wanted!” The prince snapped, slamming his bowl onto the side table. Dori stared at him wide eyed, his face pale. “You should leave.” Kili breathed with a sigh, retracting his hand. Dori blinked out of his shock.

“But, what-”

“I'll be fine without your medical expertise,” Kili muttered with a sneer at his words. “I want to be alone.” Nodding, Dori stood and moved to the door. With one glance to Kili’s shrugged figure on the cot, the older dwarf left without another word. His medical practices could only heal a physical wound. There wasn't much Dori could have offered to help with the pain Kili felt in his heart. This pain, Kili decided, would never truly heal. There was nothing anyone could do for him, and he would have to suffer alone until it finally passed. 

Lying back down on the cot, Kili also realized that he should have had Dori wrap his shoulder up again for him or at least have given him the bandages to wrap it himself, because the furs on the cot scratched at the raw flesh of his wound. Kili wanted so badly to scratch at his wound, just to rid himself of the terrible itch, even if his wound did happen to open again and he bled everywhere. But he thought better of it, sniggering at the thought of Dori or Balin’s face if they were to come find him bled out on a cot of cheap furs. What a way to die, Kili thought sourly. At least Thorin and his brother had more noble deaths for their name.

As Kili allowed his mind to drift deep in the recesses of the mountain, a commotion ensued just outside the gate of Erebor. Thranduil sat tall and proud atop his great elk. He spoke down to a group of dwarves, consisting of an unyielding Balin, a glaring Dwalin and a sulking Bofur, with Tauriel and Legolas looming beside them, about the terms and conditions of the peace treaty. 

“I admire your boldness, Master Dwarf. I will agree to sign this treaty, but first, I want what was promised to me.” Thranduil demanded.

“And you’ll get what was promised when we crown our new King.”

“Oh? And where is your new King? Still recovering in his dark tunnel? Is he afraid to come out into the light and face his new responsibilities as King? Or let me guess, he’s taken by the sickness as well now that real power has come to him?” Dwalin lunged at the elf atop his elk, but was stopped in time by Bofur, Bombur and Ori.

“He is still recovering from his wounds, as we all are.” Balin reasoned, stepping closer to the elf’s steed. “I need not remind you that we have all lost people in this war. It might do well for us to mourn together.” The slightest hint of a grimace passed over Thranduil’s features, but the elven king did well to cover his slight wavering.

“My people will recount our lost and return to our forest. When your boy-king has taken throne, send word to my kingdom and I will personally come to claim my prize.” Thranduil turned on his elk and stalked away. What remained of his soldiers mimicked his movements and marched at his flanks. “Legolas, we leave.” He called over his shoulder. But Legolas made no move to follow. 

“Tauriel.” She stood beside him, but she did not face him. “Come with us.”

“Don’t waste your breathe, Legolas. She has no place amongst us. Not anymore.” Thranduil spat, glancing back and forth between the two. Clenching his jaw, Legolas stomped up to his father, but before he could open his mouth and utter but a single word, Tauriel appeared at his side and spoke in place of him.

“I will be the ambassador of the alliance between the elves and the dwarves and I shall bring word to you when the jewels are prepared for travel. Then I shall claim my place back amongst your ranks. ”

“Tauriel.” Legolas muttered, shell-shocked by her confidence. Thranduil lifted his chin and stared down at her with a most disgusted glare.

“Very well, I will sign to an alliance if you can return to me what the dwarves have. If it all goes wrong, you will be at fault and forever banished from the elven kingdoms. One step onto our land and you will be shot without mercy from the same bow and arrows you once wielded yourself.” Thranduil moved to continue on, but stopped a moment again to say, 

“Be warned, Tauriel, daughter of the Mirkwood forest, Dwarves do not easily forget their grievances. Nor do they easily forgive, either.” To the dwarf he said, “If I do not hear word by the beginning of spring, I shall return to reclaim them myself.” 

“You expect us to travel to the forest? In the middle of winter?’

“I expect you to honor your side of our agreement. You dwarves should have known what you were getting yourselves into when you took what belongs to me and my people.” With those parting words, Thranduil and his remaining army of elves marched back over the horizon, and back to their forest. Tauriel gazed after them as they left, sure of herself that she’d be true to her words; she would succeed in uniting the two kingdoms. Legolas, more skeptical of her actions, stepped in front of her, demanding her attention.

“You realize what you’ve just done, don’t you?” Tauriel ignored his words and spun on her heel and stormed back into the mountain. Legolas followed closely behind her, effortlessly matching her fast pace.

“I’ve just united two kingdoms and have saved the new people of Dale.”

“No, you’ve burdened them with the prospect of another war. My father won’t rest until he has those diamonds back in his possession. Do you think he’s just going to wait around for this dwarf to stop moping around to give them back? He’s going to return here with refreshed archers prepared to take down the dwarves and their mountain all over again to reclaim what he believes is rightfully his.” Tauriel stopped abruptly causing Legolas to bump into her back. But she continued unfazed.

“You will keep him from that.” She faced him. “Return with him now and keep him from sending more elves. I will talk with Kili and get Thranduil his diamonds and we will finally be at peace.”

“Tauriel that will never work.” She reached out and touched his arm. Legolas went to step away from her, that is, until he saw the look in her eyes.

“Do this for our people, Legolas. Do it for the future kingdoms of Middle-Earth. Do it for me.” Tauriel whispered and squeezed his arm with his face composed but mind a wreck. Legolas agreed. Tauriel nodded back, gave one more squeeze to his forearm, and hurried down the dark hallway before them. Sighing, Legolas took a step back. He didn’t know what she saw in the dwarf, but Legolas still cared for her. One way or another, he would do this daunting task for her, if that would make her happy, and that’s all he really could do for her at this point.

=======

In the weeks following the departure of the elven king and his troops, the townsfolk had long since moved into the mountain to avoid the end of the long winter that already covered the land in sheets of white. 

Kili didn’t leave the room in the medical wing during any of that time. Instead, he sat and ate and slept. He convinced himself that he would need to heal completely before he could do anything, although Balin thought of another reason Kili didn’t feel like admitting. No other talk of the throne was brought up around Kili. Tauriel often brought Kili his herbal medicine along with his food, but their interactions were often short and lead to nothing more than talk of Kili’s recovery and the snow covering Dale. Dori visited him twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening to inspect Kili’s wounds and change his bandages. When Dori visited, Kili remained silent and allowed the other dwarf to babble on about the men of Dale assisting the dwarves in the mines and the other parts of the mountains. Apparently the men of Dale aided greatly the dwarven forges, despite their soft skin and heat sensitivities. And Balin visited every now and again. Kili expected Balin out of anyone to talk to him of his responsibilities as the last direct heir of Durin, but he did not. Balin kept the conversation easy, carrying on with more of a monologue, allowing Kili a time where he didn’t have to think. 

Of course other members of the company gave the odd visit, on occasion. Bofur came with Dori one day, the two chatting of different foods for Kili. Now that his abdomen was clearing up, Dori thought more solid foods would help speed up the healing process. Kili had nodded along, but dozed off after a few minutes. Kili wasn’t sure if he was ready to be healed, or if he ever wanted to be. The sooner he healed, the sooner he would be forced to leave his room, and the sooner he would have to face his new reality. And the other dwarves weren’t exactly helping him. Whenever they did visit, all that they would speak of were the vast improvements of the mountain; How Dáin was such a great leader and really knew how to band the dwarves and the men of Dale to work together. For some reason, the mere mention of Dáin, or the lack of mentioning Thorin and Fili, sparked a flare of irritation in Kili. In those moments, all Kili could see was red. He would lash out at whoever was speaking, no matter who it was. 

“Leave.” Kili would command them. “I do not want to see your face anymore.” That’s why Oin and Gloin don’t visit him anymore. Kili kicked them out when they began praising Dáin; Bifur and Bombur don’t bother to try anymore; Kili made Ori cry once when the young dwarf was retelling the company’s long journey and forgot to remember that Fili and Thorin were there also. But in the rare hour Kili had to himself when no one was there to distract him, Kili laid victim to his thoughts. He thought of Dáin Ironfoot and Erebor, and how Dáin offered much more to the kingdom than Kili ever could. He also thought of the company, how he longed to relive the nights where they would sing together of the great mountain and why Bilbo, out of everyone, had yet to visit him; even Gandalf paid a visit, apologizing profusely that he couldn’t heal Kili’s wounds because the war had taken too much out of him and he, too, needed to recover in his own time. But in these quiet hours alone, Kili often thought of Fili and Thorin. 

If Fili were here, Kili thought, these hours wouldn’t seem to stretch as long as they did. Kili never noticed how long it took for time to pass, but maybe with the loss of his brother, Kili also lost his sense of perception. If Fili were here, the two of them would’ve been running through the tunnels of Erebor the moment they woke up. If Thorin were here, Kili would’ve felt an obligation to get out of bed and dive into the tunnels to help the dwarves and the men of Dale. But without either of them, Kili lay dormant on his cot waiting for Tauriel to bring him his next meal. In the windowless room, Tauriel’s daily food delivery was the only way Kili could tell the time of day. 

And this particular day had started out like any other. Kili lay lethargic on his bed, dozing in and out of a dreamless sleep, awoken by Tauriel with her morning food delivery. After a short conversation, Kili was once again left alone to his thoughts. He ate silently and slowly, if only to make the time pass. Then he picked up a book Dori had brought for him upon Balin’s request. The elder dwarf knew Kili spent his time alone more often than not in his quiet dwelling, and he had been the one to deny Kili’s request for a target to be set up in his room along with a set of a bow and arrows. Kili was never one to read books, but with almost nothing else for him to do, he gave in and decided to read Balin’s book instead, something of a time of old and moving on. He tried his best to pay attention, but the words kept jumbling together in Kili’s mind, and more often than not he had to set the book down to rub his temples, attempting to digest the words and their meaning.

And the elder dwarf himself appeared, slamming open the door and startling Kili into dropping the book into his lap. As he sat up, he saw Balin glowering in the doorway.

“Get up. We’re going for a walk.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere I should’ve taken you weeks ago.” was all Balin offered. Reluctantly, Kili swung his legs off to the side of the bed and stood. This little excursion would be Kili’s first time out of the medical room since the war. The first step out of the sanctuary he created, Kili almost retreated, almost refused to take the next few steps forward until he saw the glint in Balin’s eye. Balin gave Kili the same look he imagined Thorin would give him; disappointment, with the slightest hint of a dare to try and prove him wrong. Kili accepted, eager to win the challenge, but a sense of doubt washed over him. He hadn’t left the room since he woke up. He only heard of Fili and Thorin’s death while he was in the room, but it didn’t seem real to him. Bilbo hadn’t visited him, but no one told Kili that he was dead, no one had even made mention of the hobbit. In the room, Fili and Thorin weren’t really dead, but they weren’t exactly alive either. In the room, Kili could pretend they were, and he was just waiting for them. In the room, Kili could hold onto his last bit of hope that the life he had led before was still attainable and livable. But once outside, reality would strike, and that’s exactly what Balin intended to have happen.

With soft, tentative steps, Kili stepped outside of his room. There wasn’t a soul shifting moment, no earthquake to shake the mountain, nothing immediate to alter Kili’s reality. Kili gulped and followed Balin down the corridor. Dark and with a chill in the air, Balin lead the pair by the light of his torch. The corridor seemed to stretch on for miles to Kili, every now and again they’d pass by a door identical to the one of Kili’s room, save for a few dwarven marks identifying the room. Not much further than passing a fifth identical door on their right had the corridor started to light up and an end to the extensive hallway came into sight.

A familiar heat began to warm Kili’s stiff bones as the approached the light. They were atop a side stairwell leading down into the forges, Kili realized once they exited the tunnel. The sights in the room amazed him. The forges were lit, fire blazing as man and dwarf worked side by side, crafting, gilding, brandishing. When Dori spoke of men working with the dwarves in the mines and the forges, he initially thought the idea laughable. Men and dwarves working together on an original dwarven craft in a mountain mined by dwarves? Impossible. But as Kili gazed down upon the two races working together, he nearly believed the men actually belonged there. Perhaps his head still needed time to heal, Kili wondered.

After descending a flight or two, Balin steered the two down another corridor leading them downward again and away from the commotion. The two traveled down so many steps, Kili thought they were well below mining level by now; by the cut of the stone walls encompassing them, these tunnels were dug out long ago, possibly even before Thrain I the Old’s time when the dwarves first took the mountain as their own. The air grew chillier once again, far colder than where Kili’s room was, and with the cold came an almost palpable dampness that coated Kili’s skin with a most uncomfortable feeling. They finally stepped off the last stair and walked down an unforgiving hallway. They came upon a grand opening, at least five dwarves high, with tunnels going in each and every direction with a staircase off to the side to get to the tunnels at different levels. Unlike the immense staircase from before, torches were scattered everywhere around the cave’s walls. There was enough light around them that Balin placed his in an empty slot and carried on with Kili at his side. Kili wondered which hallway Balin would drag him down, but Balin kept trekking forward. With such jagged stone cuts on the walls, Kili tried to remember the maps of Erebor Thorin once showed him to assess where he and Balin were. It wasn’t until they passed the first group of stone markings that Kili realized Balin was taking him to see the graves. 

“Why are you bringing me here?” Kili asked, averting his eyes from the dead.

“You cannot hide from your responsibilities forever, Prince Kili.” Kili could have stopped, should have stopped, then turned and ran up the stairs back to his room. But he didn’t; some unknown force kept his feet moving underneath him. The pair passed several more graves, some with names and dates, others were left unmarked. Torches lined the walls in between each set of graves. The two remained silent until they reached the end of the hall. Another great room opened up to them. Thick webs took residence in the high corners where the light of the torches barely reached. This room had several graves dug out, but many were empty, and unmarked. Balin didn’t stop walking to look around the room, as Kili had. He walked forward until he stopped, standing at the only few graves in the room. Slowly, Kili followed. Balin stepped aside to allow Kili to look.  
The graves before them belonged to Fili and Thorin. Beside their names were epitaphs, neatly carved and deep in the stone. Reaching his hand out, Kili brushed his fingers along the writing. He felt his chest and throat tighten as he read. It hurt to breath and Kili couldn’t blame it on the condition of the cave. 

“Why have you brought me here?” Kili asked again. He left his hand resting on the wall, not bearing to remove it. His knew his brother and uncle lay on the other side of the slab of stone, their lifeless bodies long since started to rot.

“Because you needed to see for yourself that they are gone. You can’t continue to mope around your room waiting for them because they are not coming back. Dáin cannot stay and rule Erebor, he and his forces will leave to return to their kingdom. You need to regain your health and take the throne as King.”

“Thorin was King.” Kili whispered, staring at the stone.

“Not anymore, laddie.” Balin sighed, taking a step away from the wall.

“Then Fili.”

“He is not here to take it. You are.” the old dwarf urged, but Kili could not adhere to his words. 

“I am not supposed to be King. It was not written.” Dropping his hand from the wall, Kili took a step back, shaking his head. 

“It wasn’t written that they would perish together at the blade of the white Orc, either.” Balin countered. With glaring eyes, Kili’s head whipped around to face Balin. 

“Do not speak of them that way. They were killed trying to retake that mountain. They died with honor.” Kili snapped. Balin merely bowed his head. “If Fili couldn’t be King, then neither shall I.” Kili’s voice caught in his throat when he whispered his brother’s name. With one last glance to the graves, Kili turned away. He couldn’t bear to look at the grave marking, to read the title Thorin was given in the prophecy and the great legend he will forever be remembered by. The prophecies never spoke of this tragedy happening, they hardly spoke of Kili or Fili at all; there was never a war mentioned, at least not in the dwarven version. Thorin was supposed to reclaim Erebor and restore it and Fili was to be King after him. Find a dame, have some kids, then they’d take the throne as well. Kili was never to take the highest ruling position as King. Maybe an advisor, but nothing more than a lonely Prince, free to do as he pleased while his brother, a more prim and fine choice, took the throne as the rightful heir. But here he was now, all the responsibility and expectations of King turned onto him, and Kili rejected it all.

He couldn’t be King; he was never trained for it. Thorin never gave him to opportunity to. As the more responsible one, Fili was trained in all things related to ruling a kingdom. As the younger brother, Kili always felt he had room to breathe and have error, although minor, in his actions and choices. He wasn’t perfect, nobody was quite frankly, and he could accept that. But Fili was ultimately the better option for King, if given the choice. The thought of taking the throne and ruling Erebor and Dale practically suffocated Kili, stifled him and drew the breath right from his lungs. It was the worst kind of fear he ever felt in his life, worse than the fear he felt when he and the company were nearly got eaten by trolls or nearly brutally mauled by goblins. Back then he was prepared to face whatever challenges faced him, he knew the outcome. If he died, it wouldn’t have impaired the company. They would miss him, yes, but they could have carried on. They proved so when they left him, Fili, Bofur and Dori in lake town when he was ill. Bilbo still managed to find the secret door to the mountain without all of them. Kili was no more than a lowly dwarf who could wield a bow and a sword.

Despite the work done before the winter storms hit, the mountain and city were still in shambles and Kili didn’t know what to do first. Should they clear up the valley and the streets of Dale of the fallen? Begin to rebuild? He wasn’t king yet, exactly. Would they even follow him? Would they want to overthrow him? Surely after he took the throne and saw his incompetence they’d see he wouldn’t be up to the task as King. Kili hadn’t left his room for weeks, believing in the idea that Thorin and Fili would return to him. Now that he was out and in the great tunnels of Erebor, Kili was terrified to venture past the forges and the mines, further than the first great hall in fear of catching sight of the gold and succumbing to the illness which took his uncle.

And what of Tauriel? Although he’d been cold to her for the past several weeks, he still loved her, and a marriage between a king dwarf and herself could potentially link both kingdoms. But Kili never really understood such political notions. Balin might have paved the roads for an alliance to form, but how would Kili maintain friendly relations? He didn’t know the first things about keeping an alliance, much less an alliance with the elves; nor did he understand how stable a union that would be. Besides, he couldn’t think of marriage at a time like this. His head and chest hurt too much to even think of such things, and the stare Balin gave him unsettled Kili’s stomach.

“Let’s get you back to your room. The she-elf is probably bringing your mid-day meal about now.” Balin walked ahead of him, but Kili’s feet felt as though they were planted to the ground. They were about to return to his room, but Kili knew it wouldn’t feel the same. He felt sanctuary in the room. Nothing the dwarves or Tauriel had shared with him was true, as much as Kili knew. They were just mere words to him, nothing more than just something to fill the air and pass the time. Kili would have no other choice but to start accepting his new role as King. He’d have to learn what to do and how to rule from the other dwarves, probably listen to a few lectures from Dáin about ruling. Besides that, Kili would have to learn to manage on his own, all the while ruling Erebor and all of Dale whilst maintaining a feeble alliance with the elves. 

He couldn't do it, not like this. He couldn't do all of it on his own. He needed Thorin to guide him and give him the sense of direction he needed; and Fili, also, to rely on and to fall back on if Kili ever needed him. Without them, who would help him? Who would Kili have to rely on as he ruled under the mountain? Sure he had the company, but he didn't share the same relationship dynamics with a single one of them that even came close to resembling what Kili shared with Fili or with Thorin. There was no comparison, and nothing could fill the holes in his heart their deaths left. He couldn't be king without them; he couldn't do anything without them. 

Fili’s words echoed throughout Kili’s head. 

“We grew up on the stories of the mountain; do not take that away from him! I belong with my brother” 

Kili’s chest tightened. He’d been sick when Fili spoke those parting words with their Uncle, standing up to him as the greed slowly began to take Thorin’s mind, but Kili remembered the ferocity behind Fili’s words; an honest truth Fili believed with his entire soul and lived out until the very end. Kili scoffed at the memory.

“You said that then, brother, but look at where you are now.” Kili muttered under his breath.

Balin stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at Kili. His eyes widened when he saw Kili standing in the same spot he was in before. He stood with his head down, and his hands balled at his sides. Even in the dim lit room, Balin could tell the youth’s body was shaking. He had heard Kili say something, even still the young dwarf kept muttering incoherently to himself, but as Balin gazed upon him now, he wondered if it actually was a good idea to bring the lad here in the first place. 

=======

“If this is power, I do not want it.” Kili snapped, hugging his legs closer to his chest and burying his face into his knees.

“It’s ok, laddie. Nobody wants to come into power this way.” Balin reasoned, taking a seat on the stool. He was exhausted. Walking up and down the stairs to the grave stones every day had begun to wear at his bones. Although he would not admit that he was old, he was certainly not as young as he was. And going with Kili had been easier on the way down. The young dwarf went without the kicking and screaming that Balin had primarily expected, but when leaving, Kili had to be dragged from of the cavern. Although he wasn’t clinging to the graves and crying as he was now, the poor lad still needed help removing himself. 

“I was not to have power in the first place!” Kili cried. “Thorin was King! Then Fili after him. There’s no right to power for me.” The younger dwarf curled in on himself, appearing smaller than he already was. Balin sighed, feeling sorry for the lad. He had expected Kili to react this way when the news was given initially, but when he hadn’t, Balin knew something was gravely awry. He let Kili stay in his room on Dori’s order for bed rest because of his head and internal injuries. Even the she-elf mentioned him nearly passing out upon standing when he first awoke. But Balin saw now that they should have done something differently. They had allowed Kili to wallow in a false sense of hope and allowed the hope to fester into something dangerous. 

“We all miss them, but you must become King now. Erebor looks to you for guidance-” 

“I told you, I don’t want it. Take it from me! I was to reclaim this mountain with my brother, that was all! And now he is not here. What am I to do now without him here to guide me? Thorin would know what to do now, as would Fili. But me?” Killed scoffed, shaking his head. “I am no more than a reckless young dwarf.” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Thorin wouldn’t have allowed you on the journey if he hadn’t thought you were fit for it.” Balin tried reasoning again, but his words didn’t seem to get through to Kili.

“A lack of good judgement… He was lacking that quite a bit towards the end.” Kili mumbled, his tears temporarily stalling as he stared off into some oblivion. “He only allowed me to come along because he knew that Fili wouldn’t have agreed to go without me.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Balin asked, appalled Kili would even think so lowly of his uncle, no matter how low he felt himself. But Kili’s glare gave Balin his answer.

“Leave me.” Kili spat, eyes dark and glowering from underneath his furrowed brows. Balin stood on his aching feet and left the lad to his sorrows. The door closed with a soft click behind him and Balin went on his way. At this rate, Erebor would not receive its rightful King until next Durin’s day, if ever. Sighing, Balin said a curse to Mahal. He had made a promise to himself and to Thorin and to all of Erebor that he would look after Kili. He swore that he would help Kili take the throne; teach him everything he needed to know, to help him mourn. But he feared he may have misstepped. Kili was now accepting his brother’s and uncle’s death, but he no longer sought the company of the other dwarves. Even when he was with the she-elf he was no longer himself. Balin had seen what Kili was like with her, how he talked and how he looked at her. He no longer saw the spark of light in Kili’s eyes when she was in the room, nor did she when she was with him. 

Balin was nearly at the end of the hall when the elf came up swiftly to him, a tray of food in her hand as always. He stopped her before she moved past him.

“I wouldn’t talk to him right now, lassie, too wrung from his grief to think of anything else. I do not know if you’ll even get through to him.” the elf merely stared at him, her expression unchanging.

“I must try.” She said, stoic as the elf she was. Bolin shrugged and let her pass by. He admired the courage of heart Kili had when the two first met. In swearing to look after Kili, Balin also meant looking after his heart. Balin hoped that whatever he couldn’t give to Kili in his time of anguish, the elf would make up for in her love and loyalty to him. He hoped the elf would find a way to help heal Kili’s heart, and that Kili would return to the way that he was. Sighing again, Balin continued on down the corridor, not daring to eavesdrop on the two.

Tauriel continued to Kili’s room, the older dwarf’s words still ringing in her ears. So he had taken Kili to the graves, she thought to herself. She had originally been against the elder’s plan, but she knew Kili couldn’t carry on as he apathetic as he was. Being stuck in the room had kept Kili from accepting the fate of his brother and uncle. She should have noticed it before, she thought kicking herself; but how could she have noticed? She didn't know nor understand what true grief was supposed to look or feel like. She only knew the elven side of it, and even then an elf in dire mourning did not tend to stick around for very long. She, herself, felt a sense of mourning for those elves that lost their lives in the war, and she mourned the loss of her people due to her banishment, but nothing she felt could compare to what Kili was feeling. At this point, any sign of emotion from Kili, however dreadful, was a sign that his old self was still in that empty shell Tauriel had seen of him the past few weeks. There was still hope for him. 

When Tauriel reach Kili’s door, she entered quietly without a single knock, having long since abandoned any formalities of that kind. Curled in on himself, Kili sat with his head resting on his knees. He did not look up when Tauriel entered, but she didn't expect him to. As of late, he never seemed all too excited at her presence, at least not much more than he was with anyone else. The idea that she was losing him before she could even have him made her heart clench in her chest. 

Placing the tray onto the table, Tauriel slowly turned to Kili’s hunched figure. Still, he did not bother to look up at her, but he did not have to look up to know that she stood beside him. 

“I am not filled with greed, nor desire, if that is what you were wondering.” He spoke with a sullen voice. Tauriel continued forward, and sat next to him on the bed. A little awkwardly, she rested a hand on his back, unaccustomed to comforting another.

“I do not know of anyone who would feel greed at a time like this.” she whispered. Kili looked up at her, raising his head, but quickly glance away refusing to maintain eye contact.

“Why are you here?” He muttered, resting his chin on his knees, keeping his eyes forward. Withdrawing the engraved stone she carried with her from her pocket, she held it out to him in her hand, the text facing upwards. From his peripherals, Kili saw her movement and glanced at her hand, then back up to her eyes.

“You promised.” At her words, Kili’s fine, stoic demeanor shattered and he began to weep. Tauriel pulled him into a hug, tucking the stone safely into her sleeve so she would not lose it amongst their limbs or the furs. 

“Why does it hurt so much?” Kili asked, voice breaking with every word.

“Because you love them, and now they are gone.” Kili cried into her shoulder and she didn’t mind as she felt his tears dampened the shoulder of her tunic. Tauriel comforted him in the best way that she knew how, yet he continued to weep with his face buried in the crook of her neck. The two held onto one another in a companionable silence for a short while. His sobs had all but stopped, but lone tears still fell, one right after the other. Tauriel didn’t know nor care how long the two sat together, but this time she had spent with Kili seemed the most like the old times they had spent together since Kili first woke up in this room. Kili finally stopped crying altogether after a while, and for a moment, Tauriel thought he was brought anew, and that all he really needed was a little crying. For one false moment, she believed that now Kili would be himself again. But then Kili opened his mouth and the words come tumbling out. 

“Tauriel.” Kili whispered. “Run away with me.”

“What?” He grabbed her hand in the still of the room and held it close to his chest.

“Let us run to the forest! Away from this place! They’ll never find us!” She gaped at him, her eyes wide and jaw slack. “You won’t have to worry about your banishment and I won’t have to worry about being king! It is perfect!” Kili exclaimed, jumping up from the cot. Tauriel was about to protest, to shoot down his preposterous request. But as she watched him pack, pulling out the bag they stored his clothes in from underneath his bag, she began to wonder if the idea wasn't as bad as she thought. He had been trapped in this room since the end of the war with nothing else to think about other than his losses. Surely a trip outside of the mountain for some fresh air would do him some good, probably better than seeing the graves of his uncle and brother. And the look on his face, oh Mahal, his face was lit up, brighter than she’d seen since before the war. And even in her hesitation, his expression never wavered. Even in his delusion, he expected her to agree with him, to run away with him, that’s what he wanted. Tauriel composed her face, and stared at her dwarf. If that was what he wanted, then she’d give it to him, if only to see his face lit up as it was in this moment.

“Ok.” She smiled. The two of them could survive the trip, even with the state of Kili’s shoulder. She'd make sure they didn't go much further than the borders of Dale. 

The two sat together and planned their escape. The decided Kili would stay in his room throughout the day so as not to draw any suspicion. Tauriel would go to armory and swipe two bows, a few daggers and some arrows for the two of them. And as she prepared for Kili’s evening meal, she'd gather a few provisions to last them for a week or so, or until they found more. Kili would store everything beneath his bed, until the time came at the end of the day when Tauriel brought him his evening meal that the two would gather their supplies and exit the mountain the same way the company had reentered those many weeks ago. 

They talked more in that short period of time than they had in the past few weeks altogether, Tauriel noticed; it shoved the doubt from her mind. This was a good plan, she decided. If he was already getting back to his old self, then it wouldn't take much more to get the rest of him back. She smiled to herself as she left Kili’s room. This winter brought with it mild weather, nothing too harsh that would bring them too much harm if they prepared appropriately. And the dwarves would hardly miss them. By the time they realized she and Kili were missing, the two would already be settled somewhere with food cooking over a warm fire. 

Even if the plan proved insufficient, Tauriel would manage to carry out her end easily enough. She returned to the kitchens with an empty tray and left with it overflowing with wrapped food. A female dwarf raised an eyebrow as she left. Tauriel shrugged, saying the prince wanted to prepare his own food for a change. The dwarf nodded at the mere mention of Kili and left the elf without saying a word. Tauriel pulled the same maneuver when retrieving the weapons. She grabbed her bow and one for Kili, two quivers full of arrows, and a small array of daggers. When a dwarf inquired her of her selection, she told him the prince wanted to start training for the approaching warmer months. What with his injured shoulder and all the bed rest he's had for the past few months, he was itching to practice his archery again. And just as Tauriel predicted, like the female dwarf from the kitchens, this dwarf backed off at the sound of Kili’s name. 

As Tauriel brought Kili their supplies throughout the day, he praised her; astonished she managed to gather everything. Once they had everything they needed, she helped him hide their supplies beneath the cot, the wound on his shoulder still a hindrance to him. 

“I will return later with your evening meal. Then we shall leave before it gets too dark to travel.” She said, shoving the last pack alongside the others. Carefully, she draped a fur to conceal the overstuffed packs. Surely they would have enough to last them a fortnight, she thought, going through a list of their supplies in her head as she stood to her full height. 

“Thank you.” Kili said. She turned her attention back to him as he grabbed her hand. He had been rather quiet while she packed, but it was nothing like the silence she received for the past few months. The touch of his hand warmed her body with something she hadn't felt since they first met. How she had longed to feel this way again. He smiled up at her and his eyes, oh Mahal, his eyes lit up with the brightest stars she could only ever dream of. 

“Of course.” She breathed. “I will be back, until this evening.”

“Until this evening,” He promised, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand before dropping it. It tore at her heart to leave him again, but one look at his eyes reminded Tauriel of why she needed to. The glint in his eye marked the promise of a better tomorrow, a future where Kili was his old self again and would accept the throne. But first, she needed to ensure she could leave the mountain undetected with him. Leaving would help him, she believed. Some fresh air would relieve the weight he's carried on his shoulders for so long. So she would carry on her way, leaving his room and assisting anywhere she could, until the time came for the two of them to leave.

And the time did come, sooner than Tauriel had expected. The dwarves in the kitchen were rushing to get food prepared for those workers coming out of the mines and finishing their work at the forges. No one batted an eye as Tauriel snatched some scraps of food to eat herself, scrounged a plate together for Kili, and rushed to Kili’s room. She found him with his bag over his good shoulder, stuffed to the brim with supplies. His bow was hooked over the other shoulder albeit loosely due to the wound, and the quiver secured. She stopped and took a second to take in the sight of him. A second wave of doubt washed over her, but the look of expectation on his face helped her to breach the surface.

Kili took his food and discarded the tray onto the table. They looked to each other, nodded once, and slid out to the hallway. With Kili leading, the two crept down the dark corridor. With the rest of the mountain winding down from another day’s work, the halls were quiet. Not a sound but their quick feet across the floor echoed throughout the halls. Tauriel followed closely behind Kili. She didn't know where the secret entrance was, but she trusted Kili would remember the way and lead them there. If not, then they'd find another way to leave, even if it meant going through the front door. 

Having spent the last few weeks of winter underneath the mountain, Tauriel grew to appreciate the dwarven culture. Their uncanny resourcefulness amazed her, especially in this time of great need. Even the tunnels and the mountain itself astounded her. They were similar to that of the elven halls, but they were something else entirely as well. Dug and smoothed out by the hands of the dwarves, Tauriel had studied much of the structures and architectures of the caves. But as Kili continued to lead them on, the tunnels began to look less and less familiar to the elf, the air growing colder as they ascended a dark lit stairwell. She had spent the last few weeks since the war pouring herself over the maps of the mountain, yet she still found herself losing her way on more than one occasion. Although Kili had spent the long weeks locked away in his room, he carried on as if he had lived in the mountain his whole life. 

He turned them down a small corridor, the ceiling so low that Tauriel had to crotch nearly half her height to continue. 

“We're here.” Kili said. Tauriel was about to open her mouth and ask where the door was, but before she could, Kili merely brushed his hand tentatively across the wall. A thick slab of the wall cracked open, the light of a setting sun pouring through the slight opening, illuminating the whole tunnel behind them. Kili grabbed the slabbed and pulled it away. The pair emerged from the mountain with little difficulty, other than the harsh winds of the winter that nearly knocked them back into the mountain. Finally outside, Tauriel assessed they stood on the east side of the mountain having spotted the edge of the city in the distance. 

“We should move and find some shelter, unless you are keen on losing your fingers and nose to the cold.” Tauriel warned, heading towards the ledge to find a way down the side of the mountain. The cold air bit at her exposed skin, and the winds deterred her from keeping her eyes open. Kili closed the slab of stone behind her.

“This way,” he called above the noise of the wind. “There is a cave not too far along. Found it when my brother and I climbed the face.” Tauriel saw him falter and misstep at the mention of his brother. She prayed to Mahal that he would not recoil himself again. She managed to bring him this far, surely he could find a way to help himself now without throwing away all of the progress he made.

Despite the setting sun and their thick furs, the harsh evening winds chilled their bones. Due to their stiff limbs, their movements slowed and it wasn't until the last bit of sunlight was left in the sky that Kili and Tauriel finally reached the entrance to the cave. Together in a scrambled effort, the two gathered debris from the back of the cave and some kindling Kili had snuck into his pack and started a fire. The fire not only brought instant warmth, but with it brought a sense of life to the cave. Shadows jumped to and fro along the jagged walls of the cave that mesmerized Tauriel with a fascinating wonder. She wondered of Kili felt the same, if he, too, felt the thrill of their venture. When she looked to gage his reaction to the magic of the fire, she found him gazing into it with an empty expression; dead eyes that only reflected the light with a fraction of its brilliance. Sighing to herself, she retrieved their wrapped food from her pack and began to cook their food over the fire. 

The cave fell into an eerie silence besides the soft crackle of the fire as the two ate together. They'd have to search for more firewood in the morning, Tauriel noted, eyeing the small pile they gathered. There had been just enough to start a fire, let alone enough for a fire to last all night. If they weren't careful, they'd run out and probably nearly freeze overnight. Kili poked at the fire with a thin stick he found at the entrance of the cave. He turned the embers over on one another, playing with the dancing flame. 

“How are you feeling?” Tauriel asked.

“Cold.” He continued messing with the small fire. 

“Sit closer to the fire. It will warm you soon enough.” She advised. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, a dark glare from a pale face, sharpened by the shadows outlining his features. Without breaking his stare, he broke the twig in half and threw it into the fire. Tauriel didn't say anything and Kili went back to gazing unblinkingly into the fire, an empty gaze. Sighing, Tauriel lied down for the night, turning her back to him and the fire.

“Thorin used to take my brother and me on camping trips when we were younger.” He began, slowly. Tauriel looked over her shoulder at him. “We would find shallow caves like these and stay in them for days at a time, gathering our own food and wood, just surviving on our own; Kind of like he was preparing us for the journey to the mountain, in a way.” Kili chuckled under his breath. “It's funny, to think I can never get that back.” Keeping her eyes trained onto Kili, Tauriel sat up again and waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she spoke.

“Do you want to talk about them?” Whatever smile he had fell from his face. It took him a few moments to respond, but Tauriel waited.

“No.”

“It will help. You will feel much better if you share-”

“I said no, Tauriel.” Kili snapped. He flashed a dark scowl across the cave. 

Tauriel lay back down then, and forced herself to sleep, pretending that his words did not cut something deep inside of her. He must be tired, she decided. And from the events earlier that day, it made sense. 

Throughout the night, Tauriel awoke to find Kili twitching in his sleep and the fire holding onto its last bit of life. Each time she would quietly add another bit of debris to the fire and admire the dwarf’s sleeping face from across the flame until the image would finally lull her back to sleep. When she awoke again at daybreak, the cave was empty.

Bolting upright, she took in her surroundings; her belongings lay untouched where she had left them. The fire crackled with a low flame, fresh brushwood burning with the embers. Another pile of twigs lay where Kili had, but the dwarf was nowhere in sight. Before Tauriel moved to go looking for him, Kili appeared at the entrance with arms full of dead branches. 

“I did not know where you were.”

“I did not want to wake you.” Kili said, adding to the pile of kindling. 

“Did you eat?” Tauriel asked, grabbing for her bag. Kili shook his head and took a seat across from her.

“No, not yet.” he responded. An odd silence fell once Tauriel situated some food above the fire, and Kili passed her a canteen of water to drink form. When she looked back up at him, passing his canteen back, she noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked, unable to take her eyes off of them. He merely shrugged, not meeting her eyes. She didn’t push the subject. 

“I was thinking of what to do once we left here.” She perked up at the sound of his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Well we can’t stay here forever!” Kili exclaimed, gesturing to the low ceiling. “They’ll find us here for sure! In less than a day, I tell you!”

“Who will find us?”

“The dwarves Tauriel, who else? Once we finished our food, I saw we head out, down the mountain, across the riving, heading east. They’ll never look for us there.” He explained with wide eyes. Tauriel sat with her eyebrows furrowed, staring at her dwarf. This time when he gazed into the fire, his eyes were alight with something unfamiliar. A crazed fire burned in his irises and Tauriel knew it wasn’t the reflection of the small flame in between them.

“I am not going with you.” Kili looked up at her, the crazed fire dimming.

“Why not? Come now, Tauriel, don’t look at me like that! You said you’d run away with me!”

“I did not think this was what you meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“That you wanted some fresh air.”

“Fresh air?” he laughed. “If I just wanted some fresh air, then didn’t you think I would have left the mountain long ago to get some? No, I want to leave the mountain for good.”

“Why?” She challenged, glaring at him with something fierce. Unable to match her gaze, he looked away. He got up and moved to check his things. She called for him again, but he continued towards the kindling he gathered and began packing. “Kili, why are we running?” But he still did not respond. With the kindling tied together to his satisfaction, he moved again to get his bag and weapons.

“We are leaving right now. Don’t say another word.” Tauriel intercepted him as he moved for his things. She grabbed ahold of his shoulders and forced him to look at her.

“Why are you running, Kili?” She asked one more time, her voice firmer and demanding an answer. She would not release him until he gave one. He glanced away.

“I am afraid.” He sighed.

“Afraid of what?” She asked in a softer voice.

“The gold, and of being King. I’m afraid I won’t live up to everyone’s expectations, ones that weren’t of me in the first place.”

“You think running will save you? Where is the dwarf I met in the elven halls?” She released him from her grasp.

“He was reckless. He nearly got himself and the company killed.”

“At least he wasn’t a coward.”

“Tauriel.”

“Thranduil was right. You dwarves don’t think of anyone else but yourselves. Your kingdom needs you, but all you want is to run away. Run away from your mountain, then, King Dwarf. Abandon those who look to you for guidance. Do not think I will wait here for you, for if you leave now, I will not look back.” 

“Go then.” He spat, taking a step away from her. 

“What?”

“If you would not wait for me then I do not want you here! Go back to the mountain and tell all of Erebor, no, all of Middle-Earth of the cowardice prince who would not take the mountain after his brother and uncle died!”

“Kili…”

“You just said it so yourself, Tauriel.” Puffing out her chest, Tauriel left the cave without another word. She glanced once over her shoulder to see he was poking at the embers of a dying fire. But he did not look up at her. 

=======

Elsewhere on the mountain, a certain Hobbit was preparing to return to his home after his unexpected journey and a winter spent underneath a mountain. He journeyed there with high hopes and empty pockets, but now with stories to tell and an aching heart, he was to go back again. Bilbo carried Sting in her sheath and a chest of his small share of gold in his arms. He had dreaded the arrival of today all throughout the winter, ever since the end of the war. Originally, he had wanted to leave the second after the funeral for King Thorin and Prince Fili ended, but he knew the dwarves would not have let him. With the end of Durin’s day, winter immediately followed; they would not have let him leave in such weather conditions of Middle Earth. Gandalf stayed as well, but he helped more with the reconstruction of the mountain’s interior. That job alone kept him busy for hours on end. Bilbo tried his hand at helping Gandalf, but he somehow found himself working the kitchens and organizing the ration distributions. The work was easy enough for a Hobbit such as himself, but it kept him busy. And all the dwarves checked up on him daily and such, but Kili…

Bilbo meant to visit Kili, to talk with him about the war and of the fates of his uncle and brother. He meant to, he really did, and it wasn’t that the kitchens were too busy and that he didn’t have any free time to pop in and say hello at the very least; but whenever Bilbo walked down the darkened hall and stood before the door, his mouth would go dry and his thoughts would stop. He’d stare at the door, doing nothing, staying nothing, thinking nothing. A brief image of Thorin’s dying eyes would pass through his empty brain and Bilbo would decide that he had tried. Sloppily turning on his heel, he would walk away from Kili’s door and promise himself that he would try another day. But it was those fruitless attempts at visiting a Prince he knew was also hurting, that Bilbo would regret most. 

Packed and ready to go the night before, Bilbo spent his last day in the mountain making the rounds and saying goodbye to those he came to know so well over the last few weeks; all of those he met in the kitchens, those he met whilst distributing food, those that he came to know whilst in passing, he would miss them dearly. But most of all, he would miss the rag tag group of dwarves he spent the most time with. He saved his very last parting words for them. At the end of the very sad day, all of the dwarves of the company save for the three of the Durin lineage, lined up to say a farewell to their hobbit and their wizard. The group shared individual hugs with both the hobbit and the wizard, and once everyone had a hug of their own, the hobbit stepped back to take in the group of dwarves he came to know a little too well over the past year. 

"If you ever pass through Bag End, tea is at four. You are welcome any time. Don't even bother knocking!" the dwarves all laughed with tears pooling in their eyes and smiled fondly at their hobbit. Bilbo wanted to lunge forward and give everyone one last heart-filled hug, but he knew that time would not allow even another moment of dawdling. He and the wizard needed to reach the edge of the forest before dusk if they wanted a place to sleep for the night that wasn't on the ground. He turned to leave, to take the first step of many back to his home, when he remembered one little thing. 

"Will you tell Kili farewell for me?" Balin nodded, as did the other dwarves beside him. “And that I'm sorry, for what happened.” Bilbo finally turned from the numerous pairs of sad eyes watching him and followed the wizard across the newly built bridge. 

“Oh, you can’t leave yet, Bilbo!” A familiar voice cried, approaching the gate. The hobbit turned with a soft sigh escaping his lips to find Bofur pushing his way through the line of dwarves. “Kili’s gone missing!” A collective gasp came from the dwarves whilst Bilbo stared bewildered at his friend. Hushed questions and mild accusations passed between the dwarves. Bilbo waved past that and called to everyone’s attention.

“Alright, alright! Well, when did you last see him?” He asked.

“Dori says it was only last night. Poor fellow was in a terrible mood.” Bofur informed.

“He’s always in an awful mood these days.” Bilbo heard Ori mutter from the parted group behind Bofur.

“Oh, aye. Still as quiet as usual, but he didn’t snap me out of his room like he usually does. I even made a slight mention of his uncle by accident and he didn’t do anything, didn’t even look up at me.” Dori spoke, stepping forward.

“He must’ve had the idea already in his mind by then.” Gandalf offered, joining in on the discussion. Looking amongst the concerned faces, Bilbo slowly thought to himself. 

“He could have left at any time within the last few weeks if he wanted. What made him decide now that he wanted to leave?”

“I think I may have had something to do with all this.” Balin stepped forward until he stood next to Bofur. “I brought him to the tombs yesterday; I thought it might knock him out of the rut he dug himself into. I might have mentioned something about him running away from his troubles, but I didn’t think he’d take me so literally.”

“His head has not been clear for many weeks since the war. We did not give him the chance to mourn for his kin; instead we locked him away in a room, bound to his bed so that his physical wounds might heal. We did not think of those wounds that one cannot see.” Gandalf pointed out.

“He could have gotten up out of his room any time he wanted! It’s not like anyone was guarding his room and forcing him to stay there!” Dwalin called from the back. Surrounding dwarves chimed in their agreements to this statement with low grunts and slight nods of their heads. Bilbo shook his head.

“Was he given the chance? Did any of you give him that chance? He woke up alone, from what I heard, in a dark room with no food, no water, and no company there to welcome him back to his life. He woke up in a new place that he was only in for a matter of days before the war with no other knowledge of it or the war other than whatever stories he was told! And then to find out that two of his kin died in that war; Kili didn’t even get to attend their funeral as we did! He missed his chance to find closure, and we did that to him. We had each other to mourn with while we left him all alone. We allowed for him to stay closed up in a room with his own delusions and did nothing to help him come to terms with this new reality. Not to mention that the news of him taking the throne must have shocked him too!” the idea dawned on the dwarves as looks of understanding doused their faces. 

“Yea, but he was in a right temper for a while there, mate.”

“Well wouldn’t you be too if your brother and uncle died and people stopped visiting you! Now we have to go find him. Not just for the mountain’s sake, but for his own as well. Who knows what he’d get himself into?” Bilbo muttered the last sentence more to himself than to the company, pushing his way past the collective dwarves and into the mountain.

“Where do we even start looking for him? He could be anywhere by now if he left yesterday!” one of the dwarves cried. 

“I know where he is.” they all turned to find the she-elf standing at the foot of the bridge in all of her elvish glory, her short burnt orange hair pinned back from her face. On her shoulders, she carried only a bow fit for her size and a quiver filled with only as many arrows as she had fingers. 

“But we’ve searched the mountain! He’s not in there!”

“I know a shortcut.” she said over her shoulder, and proceeded into the mountain. Unsure of themselves, the dwarves looked amongst one another for an answer. Bilbo blinked after the elf, already disappearing into the cave then looked at the confused company who now looked to him.

“Well, what are we waiting for.” He said dropping his belongings at the door of the gate to retrieve later and followed the elf into the mountain, the dwarves close at his heels. Having spent a few months living in the mountain himself, Bilbo was quite comfortable navigating through the mountain. He recognized the halls the elf led him and the rest of the company down. The ones into the mountain, the short ones with high ceilings to the forges, ones leading them past the mines and working dwarves, then up the stairs and past what was once Kili’s door in the medical wing; but from there, the elf brought Bilbo back to the long, low ceilinged tunnels that he swore he would never venture back through. If not for the pounding of dwarven boots behind him, Bilbo could have sworn he still heard the voice of a particular dragon and that of a certain dwarf.

Bilbo shook the voices from of his head and continued behind the elf, who had to crouch in order to avoid hitting her head. She stopped abruptly and turned to Bilbo.

“He led me to a door here last evening, but I can’t remember where it was exactly.” 

“Allow me.” Bilbo offered, squeezing past her bent legs. His short fingers ran along the stone, retracing a path all too familiar to him. The stone door slowly opened with the soft sound of shifting rock. The mountainous winds whipped through Bilbo’s long hobbit hair and sent a chill down his spine as he opened the stone door to its limit. The elf and company followed the hobbit onto the ledge just outside the door, the dwarves passing comments amongst themselves as they went.

“Oh I never thought I’d see this part of the mountain again in me life!”

“Seems a bit more windy up here, don’t you think, Nori?” Bilbo ignored the dwarves and turned to the elf for further instruction.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked her. Bilbo followed her line of sight and her extended arm pointing in the direction of Kili.

“There is a cave right over that ridge there. That was the last place he and I were together.”

“And you just left him alone in there?”

“She probably convinced him to leave in the first place.”

“What were you two doing in the cave by yourselves?”

“Enough!” Bilbo snapped, calling the dwarves to attention. “It doesn’t matter who or what convinced Kili to leave the mountain, so long as we get him back. Now I’m going to go and talk to him and bring him back-”

“What, all by yerself?”

“No, we’re all coming with you!” The dwarves cried in a protest. Bilbo merely shook his head and raised his hand in the air. All the dwarves quieted their unruly chatter and looked to Bilbo.

“You all have gotten the chance to visit with him while he was in the medical wing, and nothing any of you have said have helped him if this little excursion of his has anything to say about it. Now all I’m asking is for all of you to wait here and give me the chance to talk to him-” 

“What makes you think anything you can say can be any better than what any of us have said?” Dwalin hollered from the back of the group. Bilbo shot him a glare as murmurs arose from the group again.

“I don’t, but I at least have to try. Just give me a few minutes alone with him and if I can’t convince him to return, then you can drag him back into the mountain kicking and screaming if you must.” Dwalin clamped his mouth shut and simply nodded his head. Bilbo nodded once to the entirety of the company, then to the elf who began the slight descent on the side of the mountain, leading Bilbo to the ridge he needed to cross over. 

The two managed along the mountain easily enough, the elf covering more ground with her longer and nimble limbs, but Bilbo did his best to keep up. The pair was still in sight of the company when the elf looked to the hobbit.

“He is in that cave. I don’t believe he left.” She said, pointing to a little alcove in the rock. Bilbo nodded. Even from this distance, Bilbo could see the flicker of fire against the shadows on the rocks. Even if it were not Kili in the cave, someone was in there. He made to climb down to it, but the elf stopped him. “I don’t know what you will say to him, but I do believe that you will bring him back.” She said, holding onto his forearm. Bilbo offered a forced smile.

“I wish I could say the same for his brother and uncle.” He said, looking back towards the cave. 

“He will move on. He has you, and me, and all of the dwarves to help him.” Bilbo nodded again, considering her words.

“That is true.” Bilbo muttered under his breath. The elf retracted her hand and he was able to make the final descent into the cave. He meant to move cautiously, to make a silent entrance into the cave, but his coat caught on a rock sending the hobbit tumbling down the side of the small hill and into the opening of the cave. When the poor hobbit regained his bearings, he looked up to find Kili standing not too far away from him with both eyes and mouth gaping.

“Bilbo! Just the hobbit I was looking for!” Kili exclaimed, grabbing the Halfling by his wrist and dragging into the dampened cave. 

“Kili what are you doing out in this cave? Everyone's been looking for you back at the-” 

“Do you think this cave would serve well as a home?” The hobbit stared dumbfounded. The young dwarf had questionable inquisitions before, but Bilbo never thought Kili would take it this far. 

“Pardon?” 

“Look, I know it's not a Hobbit Hole by any means, but that can all change! You can help me spruce this place up a bit! Your knowledge as a Hobbit and knack for fine things will certainly come in handy for the renovating!” Bilbo was flattered to say the least, but he had no intention of staying a second longer than he needed to in this cave.

“Kili,” Bilbo started sternly, catching the dwarf’s attention. “You need to come back to the mountain. Everyone is waiting for you there.”

“I am not going back.” The young dwarf said, turning away from the hobbit. “I told you I’m going to live here now.”

“In a dark cave all by yourself?”

“I only have to take care of myself here. Here, I don't have to worry about anyone else getting hurt; not any of the dwarves, not Tauriel, not even you, Master Baggins.”

“Your brother and Thorin would be very disappointed in you for leaving the mountain.”

“What do I care? They're already dead.” The dwarf shrugged, refusing to turn around and face the hobbit.

“Fili and Thorin may have been great warriors, but that does not make them invincible.” Kili didn't say a word. Bilbo sighed, and continued speaking. “I’m sorry I haven't come to see you sooner, Kili. I would have when you first woke up, it's just… you remind me so much of him. I couldn't bear to see you and be forced to remember him again.”

“What makes us so similar? Do you think I’ve gone mad, is that it? Have a look around, Halfling, there's not a single trace of gold in this cave!”

“No but I suspect your grief is driving you mad. You need to… you need to learn how to mourn them and to move on, Kili, for the sake of your people. They need you; they don't have anyone else to turn to right now.”

“There is no freedom in being King. You saw what it did to my Uncle, and he had no one to rule over. Besides, Thorin’s cousin seems to be doing a pretty good job at the moment.” Kili mused. 

“For the time being, maybe, but he has his own people to return to, and he doesn't know the mountain or the land surrounding it as you do. Don't you understand the disservice you are doing to your brother and your uncle and your kin by rejecting your birth right and instead insisted upon living in this putrid cave? You don't belong here, Kili, you belong with the other dwarves. You belong under the mountain, Kili, as King.” the pair stood silent for a few moments longer. Bilbo was afraid Kili might blow up in his face, or worse, remain silent forever. “No matter what I tell myself, I know I didn't try hard enough to come and see you, and I know I should have. I should've tried harder because when something like this happens, when something like what happened to Thorin and Fili happens, we need to talk to one another about how we feel, about how losing them makes us feel. And I'm sorry I didn't try hard enough to talk to you about how I feel and how about you feel.” Bilbo said, his voice choking on the last few words he spoke. It was all that he could offer to Kili; he didn’t know what else he could say that could change the young dwarf’s mind. If Kili did not listen and continued to deny the throne, then Bilbo would have lost him. Bilbo’s ears yearned over the crackling of the small fire in the cave to hear but even a single word come from the dwarf. 

“I do not know where to begin as king, or even how to be.” he confessed. “I’m not - I’m not ready for this. Fili was supposed to be King, not me! What am I supposed to do without him? Without Thorin?” The dwarf cried, finally turning back to Bilbo. 

“Thorin wanted you and Fili to rule together. He had faith in the two of you, would restore it and all of Dale to their final glory, after he reclaimed the mountain.” The Halfling reasoned walking towards the dwarf with his arms wide open.

“But they’re not here…”

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone. You have Dwalin, Bofur, Nori, Ori, Dori, and the rest of the company. They’ll help you. And me, and Gandalf too, as much as we can. There are plenty of people who will help you. You are not alone.” Bilbo said, clapping a hand as best he could onto Kili’s shoulder. Kili offered a small, side smile, one that turned up the corners of his mouth but his eyes gave something else away. Bilbo heaved an internal sigh. It might not have been a big gesture, but at least he was getting somewhere. Bilbo helped Kili to gather his supplies. Despite the slightest cringe that came to his face, Kili hauled his pack onto his good shoulder, and Bilbo went to carry his quiver and bow for the injured lad. The two had another silent exchange of sympathetic smiles before heading off to leave the cave. But as they went, a chorus of familiar shouts came from the entrance.  
In came the company, rolling over each other and into the cave. 

“Oi, watch it!”

“Get off me boot you lazy oaf!”

“We’re here to help you out, laddie!” the pile of dwarves before them chimed. A soft chuckle came from Bilbo, but next to him, the young dwarf couldn’t contain his laughter. A huge grin that threatened to split his face in two broke out onto his face, displaying a great arrange of teeth. Kili doubled over as a joyous laugh erupted from deep within his chest. He held tightly onto his stomach as his laughter echoed throughout the small cave. All commotion from the pile died down to nothing as all eyes turned to the lone dwarf falling to the ground in a bundle of laughs. Hesitant smiles grew on the others’ faces as they watched him. They hadn’t seen a smile on his face in weeks let alone hear his laugh. Slowly, each dwarf joined in until there was a giant chorus of laughter bouncing off the walls of the cave. Bilbo was no exception to the infectious laughter as a smile tentatively grew onto his face as well and he, too, was laughing along with the dwarves. The she-elf appeared, gracefully sliding down the small face of mountain to stop at the entrance to the cave. At first, she didn’t know what to think of the scene in front of her. Although she had come to know the pile of dwarves in front of her to be the rowdy type, she had never seen them rolling over each other on the ground as they were now; and Kili, the brooding dwarf who she had just left not too long ago, was amongst them. Even the hobbit, an otherwise quiet and calm creature, seemed to the point where he would join them on the ground. 

Tauriel just stood and watched them until the laughter calmed down to an easy chuckling shared amongst them. The dwarves al sat up together, wiping the tears from their eyes and giving each other playful nudges as they all took their time to stand. 

“We’ve missed that smile of yours, Kili!”

“It’s so good to have you back, laddie!” Kili bathed in their words, his eyes passing over each of them, his smile broadening. His eyes then landed on Tauriel’s as she still stood in the back. Apologetically, the young dwarf pushed his way through the hoard of dwarves to get to her. He looked up at her with eyes aglow and his smile softening. She returned the gaze with a simple smile of her own.

“Amrâlimê, I am so sorry for how I treated you the last few weeks.” He said, slipping his hands into hers.

“You are forgiven.” She answered just as tenderly, giving his hands a tentative squeeze. For once, the company remained silent for the duration of the couple’s heart-to-heart, refusing the temptation to make any rude noises or say anything too venereal. The tender moment was, however, ruined by the sound of a dwarven horn blowing in the background.

“What’s that?” Ori asked.

“Sounds like someone is approaching the mountain.” Tauriel turned her head to the sound.

“No, it cannot be.”

“What is it?” Kili insisted, holding her hands close to his chest.

“Thranduil has come to reclaim his jewels.”

“I thought we had until spring?” One of the dwarves asked.

“Tomorrow is the first day of spring. They’re early.” Balin explained.

“Weren’t we supposed to deliver them?”

“Thranduil must have grown impatient.” Tauriel said, leaning closer to Kili as he kept a firm grasp on her hand.

“Well then we should give them to him!” Kili exclaimed.

“M’fraid we can’t do that, laddie.” Balin said, shaking his head.

“Why not?”

“You are not King.” Tauriel said. “You have not accepted the throne and the right to the mountain’s treasures.”

“She’s right. Until you take the throne and accept the crown, it’s all up to Dáin to make the decision.”

“Surely Kili could do something. He is the rightful heir to the throne, after all. Couldn’t he take the throne now?” Bilbo suggested, coming forward. Balin merely shrugged.

“I suppose. Dáin isn’t exactly the type to go so far against tradition. It took us nearly half of winter to convince him to allow the former people of Lake Town into Erebor.”

“Then Kili will just have to take charge and tell Dáin otherwise.” Bilbo asserted as all eyes turned to Kili. “Can you do that?” In a moment of hesitation, Kili nearly stepped back. He wanted to rip his hand from Tauriel’s and flee down the side of the mountain and away from everything. But Tauriel held him steady, and all the expectant eyes from those of the company grounded Kili to his spot. 

“We’re here to help you, laddie.”

“We wouldn’t have looked to you as King if we didn’t think you were up to the task.” Kili passed an easy smile with the group of them and breathed a sigh of relief. They all looked to him for guidance and Kili looked to them for support. Kili glanced over to Bilbo for reassurance. The hobbit met the dwarf’s gaze and gave a curt nod that Kili immediately returned.

“Then let’s give Thranduil what he wants.” Filled with newfound determination, the company cheered, thrusting their fists into the air. The dwarves began the climb back to the secret door as elegantly as they had descended. They moved together in a haphazard formation back to the door they cleverly left opened to get back through.

Once everyone made it safely back inside the walls of Erebor, Bilbo closed to stone door behind them, leaving the howling winds outside. The ragtag group of dwarves, hobbit, and elf continued through the mountain to reach the front gate. They left the tunnel with the low ceiling to the stairs that passed by the forges. Whilst passing them, Kili stopped.

“What is the matter?” Tauriel asked, turning to Kili, desperation clear on her face. With stubborn, dwarvish determination burning bright in his eyes, he face Tauriel and said,

“I have to get something. I will be right back.”

“But Kili, Thranduil is right outside; you have to see him before he loses his patience and attacks the mountain.” The dwarf smirked. 

“What do you think I’m getting?” He teased, moving to go to the stairs that lead to the treasury.

“Kili, you mustn’t! The gold-”

“Will do nothing! For I am not King, not yet, nor do I desire it as my uncle did.” He called to her over his shoulder as he began jogging down the steps two at a time despite the shortness of his legs. She watched as her dwarf disappeared down another labyrinth of tunnels, her assurance leaving along with him. She wasn’t entirely sure what caused the sickness in his uncle, and Tauriel didn’t even want to risk Kili even going near the gold at all. But she knew that Kili had to be the one to return Thranduil his jewels, or an alliance would not work between the two kingdoms. So she merely took a deep breath to recollect herself and followed the band of dwarves to the front gates, followed by the hobbit who had lingered behind her. 

The two came upon the group of dwarves forming at the front gate. Thranduil sat atop his majestic elk with as many soldiers at his flanks as when he had left so many weeks ago. He didn’t seem at all intimidated by the dwarves gathering in front of him. But as Tauriel glanced around the faces that made up the company, the dwarves didn’t seem all that intimidated either. In fact, Tauriel was floored by the deep rooted looks of certainty each and every dwarf had as they gazed at the hundreds of elves before them. 

“I trust you have my jewels ready for me?” Thranduil asked, jutting his chin out more prominently in the air about him.

“We’re gathering them up now as we speak.” Balin promised, an easy smirk coming to his face.

From Thranduil’s side, Legolas discreetly made his way towards Tauriel across the bridge.

“I tried to keep him from coming for as long as I could, but the more I urged him to stop, the more anxious he became to get them back.” Legolas apologized, but Tauriel shook her head.

“It’s alright, Kili is getting them.”

“The dwarf has finally healed?” Tauriel nodded, and Legolas’s worries melted away from his face. For a moment, the elf breathed a sigh of relief; but in the next, his eyes shifted to something emerging from within the mountain, and the elf regained his stone-like features once again. “Are you sure about that?” He asked in a voice different than before. Tauriel glanced behind her over her shoulder, but what she saw made her whole body turn.

Kili stalked towards them, his whole demeanor different than from mere minutes ago when she last saw him. The dwarven crown sat atop his head and he clutched a pouch in his hand so tight that his knuckles were as white as the tip of the mountain. The dwarf Tauriel knew as Dáin Ironfoot followed closely behind the young dwarf with a blank expression on his face, along with a few other dwarves Tauriel couldn’t put names to. Kili’s eyes were dark and unyielding with something Tauriel hadn’t seen in them ever before. Panic surged through her core and into her throat, preventing her from calling out to him. He didn’t even so much as glance in her direction when he passed her by, his eyes glued to his target. 

Kili walked with an authoritative gate through the doors of Erebor. As he approached the gathering, all eyes turned to him and the dwarves walking behind him. The group parted for him, allowing him a straight path towards the leading elf. Not even the breath of a whisper passed between the dwarves as the young King strutted by. The sure air of confidence Tauriel felt before all but withered away as Kili passed through. Elven guards exchanged weary glances with one another, but no one spoke. The entire kingdom seemed to stand still as the two kings stared each other down. Everyone held their breath waiting and watching to see who would make the first move. 

“So, the young dwarf has finally left his room.” Thranduil mocked, a devilish smirk appearing on his face. Kili did nothing, just continued to stare at the elf. “And you’re even wearing the crown, what a sight.” Tauriel inhaled a shaky breath as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, silently willing Kili to speak.  
Thranduil’s smirk continued to spread across his face as he jumped off of his elk. He barely stepped two paces until he towered over the young dwarf. “Has the crown made you mute, dwarf? Have you already fallen for the sickenss?” Thranduil sneered, leaning forward.

“No.” Kili said. Tauriel breathed a soft sigh of relief, as did the other dwarves around her. “I have your jewels, Lord Thranduil.” Kili said, shoving the pouch into the elf’s chest. The smirk instantly falling from the elf’s face and a clear look of bewilderment took over. In a hushed voice, so low only the dwarves closest to them could hear, Kili whispered “I am not my uncle, Thranduil. I will not succumb to the illness.” Kili didn’t take a step back from Thranduil. Grasping the pouch in his long bony fingers, Thranduil flared his nostrils and took a step back.

“Thank you, King Dwarf.” The elf breathed with something sinister lingering in his voice. “Now that you have proven that you are not your uncle, can you prove that you are right for the crown?” Thranduil challenged, tucking the gems away within the folds of his clothes. Kili didn’t falter under the elf’s eyes; instead, he spoke with such ferocity that the elf nearly stumbled backward.

“Erebor and Dale are now mine to rule over. I will do what Thorin couldn’t and restore them to their former glory. I will do everything in my power to keep my people safe.”

“Very well.” The elf said, dropping his gaze.

On that very same day a treaty was discussed and settled upon between the dwarves of Erebor, the new people of Dale, and the elves of Mirkwood. Once signed by the leaders of each individual party, the dwarves cheered and invited the elves and people of Dale to join them in a merry feast where the three species ate and drank for the first time together under the mountain. The elves left with their copy of the treaty after a short stay at the mountain, the beginning of an unlikely alliance already in motion, but Tauriel and Legolas did not leave with them. Although she was offered the chance to have a place amongst Thranduil's highest ranks, Tauriel chose to stay with the dwarves as a permanent resident of Erebor. She tried convincing Legolas to stay with her, but he decline, insisting he had a different journey to embark on. The hobbit left a few short days after the departure of the elves, mostly on the insistence of the dwarves prolonging his leaving. 

Kili took to the throne easily enough under the advisement of Dáin, Balin, and a few other select dwarves. Whatever gold was piled into the mountain went to the restoration of the great City of Dale, repairing the interior damage of the mountain done by the dragon, or payments to the few remaining dwarves of the company. Whatever remained was stored away deep into the recesses of the mountain, not to be touched nor seen by the king, a precaution taken in an attempt to prevent the dragon sickness from taking him to.< /p>

Erebor and the city of Dale flourished under their new King; everyone overjoyed Kili had finally come into his own and accepted his inheritance. He still dearly missed his brother and uncle, longed for them to see how much he had grown, but he would not have grown as much as he did if it weren’t for their deaths. Kili’s fear of ruling and taking Thorin’s place withered over time. After a while, he could see the impact of his work and the joy he brought the people of Dale and to the other dwarves under the mountain. He knew that Balin had been right about everything, but Kili would never admit as much to the older dwarf. Although at times Kili felt unsure about the future of the mountain or the alliance with the elves, Kili knew that he had the love and support of those dwarves around him, a certain red haired elf, and a particularly thievish hobbit.


End file.
